Author:
Here's the first official chapter for Alfia's debut. Specifically, the reveal on how she survived. Took me a while to publish this since the entire chapter is composed of 30k+ words, so you guys will be here for a while.
∆∆∆∆
The first thing that returned to Yuuya was not his sight, but the scent of clean linen and the faint, sweet trace of lavender incense. It was a stark, jarring contrast to the suffocating stench of burnt ozone, pulverized ivory stone, and dried crimson iron that had filled his nostrils for two straight weeks.
Yuuya slowly cracked his eyelids open. The morning light filtered softly through a large, pristine glass window, casting long shadows across a spacious bedroom.
He stared up at the plaster of the ceiling overhead, his mind drifting in a quiet, groggy fog.
"...the ceiling is unfamiliar..." Yuuya murmured, his voice sounding incredibly dry and raspy in the quiet room. He blinked twice, his brain slowly resetting its gears. "Wait. I forgot. We're not living in the abandoned church anymore."
He let out a low, heavy sigh, resting the back of his hand over his forehead. The sheer luxury of a proper mattress beneath his spine felt almost criminal after spending a fortnight sleeping on fractured bedrock and blood stained marble while resting after his fight with Udaeus.
He flexed his right hand, tracking the movement of his fingers. The tight, agonizing exhaustion that had bound his muscles was gone. Across his forearms and torso, the skin that cracks during his extreme exertion and the wound Udaeus gave him were smooth, as if they never happened.
'System,' Yuuya called out internally, his mental voice steady. 'You there, partner?'
[Always am.] the System replied instantly. [Good to see you back in the land of the living. For a moment I thought you're gonna sleep your entire six months.]
'Yeah, feels like it too,' Yuuya thought back, shifting his shoulders slightly against the pillows. 'Hey. How long was I out? Give me the damage on the clock.'
[Two days.]
Yuuya's hand paused over his eyes, his brow furrowing beneath his messy bangs.
"Two days?" he muttered aloud, a genuine spark of surprise filtering through his dry tone. "Only two? I was fully expecting to be a literal vegetable for at least a week, if not ten days, considering my state."
[You can thank your new upgrade for thatm] the System explained, a hint of pride in its voice. [
"Greater Regeneration... What a nice skill to have. Now that I think about it,
He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his bare feet meeting the polished hardwood floor. A fresh, clean set of casual clothes—a simple dark shirt and loose trousers—had been left neatly folded on a nearby chair. His tattered Goliath scarf was missing, likely taken by Lili and given to Welf to be cleaned or repaired.
He stood up, testing his weight. There was no dizziness, no lingering pain, and no tremors. Yuuya then adjusted his collar, took a deep breath, and walked toward the bedroom door, ready to face the music.
The grand corridors of the Hearth Manor were quiet as Yuuya made his way down the sweeping staircase. The ambient warmth of the morning sun illuminated the expansive foyer, but as he neared the entrance to the living dining area, the distinct, bustling sounds of plates clattering and muffled conversations reached his ears.
The moment his boot stepped firmly across the threshold of the dining room, the entire room went dead silent.
Welf paused mid sentence, a piece of toasted bread frozen halfway to his open mouth. Lili dropped the spoon she was using to stir a large pot of stew, her eyes widening to the size of saucers. Mikoto and Haruhime both froze near the counter, their postures rigid.
Hestia, who had been sitting at the head of the long wooden table with a ledger in her hands, slowly turned her head. Her blue eyes locked onto Yuuya's perfectly upright, unbandaged, and entirely calm figure.
"Morning," Yuuya said casually, raising a hand in a loose greeting. "Smells good in here—"
"YUUYA!"
A blue and white blur detonated from the head of the table.
Before Yuuya could even activate the defensive matrix of his mind, Hestia launched herself across the dining room with the terrifying velocity of an incensed deity. She didn't just hug him; she executed a flawless, full body flying tackle straight into his midsection that could make a gymnastic proud.
The sheer force of which threw Yuuya off balance. His boots skidded against the rug, and with a heavy, dramatic crash, he went down flat on his back onto the hardwood floor, with Hestia pinned securely to his chest.
"Oof—Goddess, wait, the ribs—" Yuuya wheezed, the wind knocked out of him despite his Level 6 parameters.
"Shut up! Shut up, you absolute, incredibly bad child!" Hestia screamed, her voice cracking with a mixture of profound fury and overwhelming relief. She hammered her small fists against his shoulders, tears instantly welling up in her eyes and spilling onto his shirt. "What is wrong with you?! What were you thinking, diving into the dungeon alone for two weeks?! No rest, no communication, and then coming back looking like a shredded corpse!"
"Goddess, mercy. Don't finish what the dungeon started.' Yuuya grunted, attempting to shield his face from the flurry of small, frantic blows. "I had a deadline..."
"I don't care about the deadline! Well, I do, but I care about you more!" Hestia cried, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder as she sobbed. "Do you have any idea how terrified we were? Tiona carried you to the gates, and you were bleeding from your eyes, Yuuya! Your skin was cracking! I thought you were gonna die right in front of me while you were chanting that spell! Especially after casting the spell! You are a horrible, reckless, stupid kid!"
Yuuya's sarcastic retort died in his throat. He looked up at the ceiling, letting out a long, quiet sigh. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his arms and wrapped them around the goddess's trembling back, patting her gently to soothe the divine panic.
"I'm sorry, Goddess..." Yuuya murmured, his voice dropping its witty edge, replaced by a genuine, quiet sincerity. "I knew the risks. But Bell didn't have time, and the dungeon wasn't going to hand over a miracle for free. I had to force its hand. But I'm back. I'm completely fine. Look at me, not a single scratch left."
Welf walked over, extending a thick, calloused hand down toward him. A massive, relieved grin was plastered across the smith's face, though his eyes were still slightly tired from days of worry.
"Get up, you crazy bastard." Welf said, pulling Yuuya and Hestia up with a single, powerful hoist. "The Goddess hasn't slept properly in days because she was hovering over your bed like a phantom. You owe us a massive explanation, but that can wait until you've actually put some mass back on your bones."
"Master Yuuya!" Lili wiped her eyes furiously with her apron, stomping her foot on the floorboards. "Lili is extraordinarily angry with you! But... Lili is also incredibly glad you are awake. Please sit down this instant! You look like you haven't eaten a proper meal since the ancient times!"
Yuuya offered a dry smile, rubbing the back of his neck as Hestia finally detached herself, though she kept a firm grip on the hem of his shirt, refusing to let him out of arm's reach.
"Alright, alright. Point taken. Feed this bad child."
He is finally home.
The breakfast that followed was nothing short of a culinary perfection designed to completely obliterate Yuuya's lingering exhaustion.
Lili, Mikoto, and Haruhime had gone completely overboard, using anything they have to create a spread that looked more like a victory banquet for a national holiday than a standard morning meal.
There were towering plates of thick, golden brown toasts, massive iron skillets bubbling with thick sausages and roasted potatoes, bowls of rich, creamy vegetable stew, and platters of fresh fruit brought in from the market.
Yuuya didn't waste a single second. For the past fourteen days, his diet had consisted entirely of whatever he had in his inventory. Mostly relying on his passive skill to keep going and keep his hunger and thirst at bay.
The moment the first spoonful of hot stew hit his tongue, an involuntary, deeply satisfied sigh escaped his lips.
He ate with a single minded focus—not sloppy, but with the terrifying, rapid pacing of an adventurer who can finally relax and not worry about a deadline.
"Slow down, man." Welf laughed, pouring a massive mug of tea and sliding it over. "The food isn't going to run away. The dungeon isn't about to spawn a Spartoi out of the kitchen floorboards."
"You don't know." Yuuya muttered between bites, swallowing a sausage cleanly. "The dungeon is incredibly petty. I wouldn't put arson based kitchen spawns past it at this point."
"Bell-dono is still asleep upstairs." Mikoto noted softly, her expression bright with a profound sense of reverence as she watched Yuuya eat. "Miss Airmid arrived yesterday morning to check his condition. She was... completely speechless. She spent three hours checking his pulse, his eyes, and everything. She wanted to know what kind of magic or method was used, but the Goddess kept the details quiet."
"Good." Yuuya said, taking a long sip of the tea. "The fewer people who knows about it the better. I just really want to take a break for now."
As the lively chatter of the breakfast table continued, with Lili and Hestia bickering over finances, Yuuya's gaze drifted toward the far corner of the table.
Haruhime was sitting quietly, her fluffy, golden tail wrapped neatly around her chair legs, her hands resting primly on her lap. She had been observing him throughout the entire meal with a mixture of deep awe, nervous hesitation, and an underlying sense of profound gratitude.
This was, after all, the very first time the two of them had ever interacted directly since Bell had dragged her out of the ruins of the Pleasure Quarter.
Yuuya set his fork down, turning his torso slightly toward her.
"Hey. Haruhime, right?"
The renard flinched slightly, her fox ears twitching straight upward in surprise. She immediately straightened her back, her face flushing with a faint, polite color as she bowed her head deeply toward the table.
"Y-Yes! I am Sanjouno Haruhime, Yuuya-sama!" she rasped out, her voice formal and carrying the distinct, elegant cadence of the Far East. "Please forgive my silence... I did not wish to interrupt your well deserved nourishment. I... I have wanted to speak with you for many days."
"Drop the '-sama,' just Yuuya is fine." he said, his voice level and entirely casual as he leaned his elbow on the table, supporting his chin. "I wasn't there to witness it personally, but Bell sure must've gone through a lot to make sure you ended up here."
"Bell is... a true hero out of the tales..." Haruhime whispered, her eyes softening with an immense warmth before she looked back up, locking her emerald green gaze onto Yuuya's dark eyes. "But... I also know what you did for him, Yuuya-dono. Lady Hestia and Miss Lili told me. To save Bell-sama from the sickness, you went into the deep belly of the earth alone. You fought monsters and sacrificed your own flesh and blood just to bring back his tomorrow."
She stood up from her chair, stepping back slightly before dropping into a kneeling bow right beside his seat, her palms pressed flat against the floorboards.
"Though I am a person of little worth, and a newcomer to this noble house... I offer you my eternal, deepest thanks." Haruhime said, her voice trembling slightly with raw emotion. "For saving the life of the one who saved me, and for protecting the light of this Familia. I swear upon my name that I will work diligently to serve you, to clean, to cook, and to support you in any way my humble abilities allow."
Yuuya stared down at the kneeling fox girl for a heavy second. A small, dry, and thoroughly fond smirk broke beneath his lips. He reached down, his fingers gently catching her elbow and pulling her back up to her feet, guiding her back into her chair before she could cause a scene.
"Like I said, drop the formalities." Yuuya murmured, his tone warm. "There are no 'people of little worth' in this manor. If Bell brought you here, it means you're family now. And around here, we look out for family. Even if it means throwing hands with the dungeon."
He reached over, casually sliding a plate of untouched, fresh fruit pastries toward her.
"Besides, if you really want to help, you can start by making sure Welf doesn't buy any more cheap metal for his forge, and make sure the Goddess doesn't spend our entire money on nonsensical stuff."
"Hey! I heard that!" Hestia barked from across the table, her cheeks puffing out in an exaggerated pout.
Haruhime blinked, her golden tail giving a hesitant, joyful flick behind her chair. A genuine, beautiful smile broke across her features, her ears lowering into a relaxed, comfortable line as she took a small bite of the pastry.
"I... I understand, Yuuya-san. I will do my absolute best."
Yuuya leaned back into his chair, watching his Familia laugh, eat, and bicker in the bright morning sun. For the first time in fourteen days, his mind was completely quiet. The hunt was over, the kid was safe, and the laziness could finally begin.
∆∆∆∆
The breakfast table had been thoroughly cleared, replaced now by the expectant, quiet gaze as the family gathered in the spacious living room.
Hestia sat on the edge of the plush sofa, a sheet of parchment resting flat on the coffee table before her. Yuuya sat on a low wooden stool opposite her, his back turned toward his goddess, his shirt pulled up to expose his back.
"Alright, Yuuya, let's see the exact numbers behind that little stunt of yours." Hestia murmured, her tone a mix of lingering anxiety and curiosity as she pricked the tip of her index finger with a small silver needle.
The moment the blood made contact with his skin, Yuuya's back erupted into a brilliant, blinding display of hieroglyphs.
Hestia updated his falna with her eyes closed, relying solely on muscle memory. She is convinced that Yuuya's stunt must've made him grow exponentially again. So she already closed her eyes in advance and prepared her mind for what's to come.
But she still isn't prepared for what's to come.
Hestia pulled the paper away, setting it flat on her lap as she leaned forward to read the results.
One second passed.
Two seconds passed.
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"
A sharp, incredibly loud, window shattering shriek tore straight out of Hestia's throat, echoing through the ceilings of the Hearth Manor and rattling the porcelain cups left on the kitchen counter.
Upstairs, in the bedroom of a certain albino, the sheer volume of the divine scream hit the walls like a physical shockwave.
Bell bolted entirely upright beneath his white sheets, his messy white hair standing up in every direction. His crimson eyes were wide, blinking rapidly in a bleary, half asleep daze as his fight or flight response briefly misfired.
Bell raised both of his arms as if he was ready to box and duke it out in the ring with a minotaur.
"An enemy attack?!" Bell said, his voice thick with sleep and utter confusion. "Is it the Apollo Familia again? A rampaging Goliath? Ares?! Taxes!? THE IRS!?"
He sat frozen in the center of the bed for three heavy seconds, listening intently to the silence that followed the scream.
Downstairs, the faint, familiar sound of Welf choking on his tea and Lili dropping a book reached his ears. Bell rubbed his face, letting out a massive, exhausted yawn as his posture deflated completely.
"Ah... it's probably nothing..." Bell muttered to himself, his eyelids immediately dropping back down like lead weights. He tumbled sideways, burying his face straight back into the plush pillow and pulling the thick blanket over his head, returning back to his sleep.
Downstairs, the chaos was far from over.
"Goddess! What is it?!" Welf shouted, wiping a spray of spilled tea from his chin as he lunged toward the sofa. "Did his stats drop? Is there a curse?!"
Lili scrambled onto the edge of the coffee table, her eyes wide with panic as she tried to peer over Hestia's hands.
"Goddess Hestia, please do not frighten us like that! What does the paper say?!"
Hestia didn't answer. Her hands were trembling so violently the parchment was fluttering like a leaf. Her blue eyes were literally swirling in tiny spirals, her mouth hanging open so wide her jaw looked entirely unhinged.
Slowly, she turned the sheet around, holding it out for Yuuya, Welf, and Lili to see.
~~~~
(Words that are in bold are new ones.)
Yuuya Mitsukuji
Race: Human
Level 4 ===> 6
Strength: 1500 ===> 0
Endurance: 1500 ===> 0
Dexterity: 1500 ===> 0
Agility: 1500 ===> 0
Magic: 1500 ===> 0
Development abilities:
Mage (Rank F ===> E)
Luck (Rank H ===> G)
Abnormal Resistance (Rank I ===> H)
SupremeAttack (Rank I)
SupremeLight (Rank I)
Skills:
Ingenium Insuperabile
Greater Regeneration
Armament (New)
Description:
Complete mastery of all weaponry. A weapon is merely a tool. You are never truly unarmed; the blade remains present where you walk, for the world itself bends to your intent.
Ability:
Allows the wielder to manifest and control their mana as if it were an extension of their body.
Magic:
AEEOC
Skill/Magic Creation
Satanas Verion
Genos Angelus
Soul Heal (Remaining Use: 1)
Mana: 7500/7500
Excelia: 0/32,000,000
~~~~
'Armament...? I definitely need to try that one later.' Thought Yuuya.
But while he is planning when he'll try his new skill, the living room is unfortunately not as enthusiastic as he was. Welf and the others went absolutely dead silent.
Welf stared at the paper, his hands freezing in the air as his brain completely stalled. Lili's eyes went completely round, her small hands flying to her mouth to stifle a fresh gasp of pure disbelief.
Even Haruhime, who was sitting quietly on the adjacent armchair, leaned forward, her ears twitching as she tried to comprehend the staggering weight of the numbers.
Yuuya pulled his shirt back down, leaning his head back as he scanned the written lines. A small, dry smirk played on his lips, though even he had to admit the sheer visual of five straight 1500s was a ridiculous sight.
"He jumped... not one... but two entire levels..." Hestia stammered, her voice dropping into a dazed, frantic whisper as she gripped her pigtails, her eyes still spinning like tops. "Level 4 straight to Level 6... in less than a month..."
"Well, the dungeon hasn't really been kind to me." Yuuya murmured, leaning back against the couch cushions and crossing his arms.
"That's not the problem!" Hestia wailed, throwing her hands into the air as she began to frantically pace back and forth across the rug. "While I am incredibly, deeply happy that my Familia now officially possesses a first-class adventurer on par and probably stronger than the executives of the Loki and Freya Familias... the other gods are going to circle us like literal vultures! Do you have any idea what's going to happen once this hits the guilds?!"
"They're going to lose their minds." Welf stated flatly, a dry, nervous chuckle escaping his throat. "A single adventurer bypassing Level 5 entirely and manifesting as a Level 6 overnight? The city's power balance just got flipped on its head."
"An emergency Denatus will probably be issued the absolute second we submit this report." Lili added, her analytical mind instantly mapping out the bureaucratic fallout. "Our finances are stable, but the political pressure from the major factions will multiply exponentially. Loki-sama will probably try to camp out on our doorstep by tonight, demanding for answers."
Hestia stopped her pacing, turning her swirling gaze back toward Yuuya, her pointing finger trembling as she looked at him.
"It hasn't even been a single month since you last submitted your Level 4 update to the Guild, Yuuya! A month! Normal adventurers spend years—sometimes decades—bleeding into the stone just to crawl up a single level! Have mercy on the Guild employees, please!"
Hearing Hestia's frantic warning, Yuuya's casual demeanor briefly faltered. A sudden, cold drop of sweat rolled down the back of his neck as a terrifying, vividly detailed image manifested in the dark recesses of his mind.
He visualized the Guild. He visualized Eina sitting behind her wooden desk, her half-elf ears twitching as she looked at a stack of paperwork that defied every known law of Orario's history.
'Ah...' Yuuya thought, his dry expression twisting into a look of genuine, internal dread. 'Eina's definitely going to kill me. The entire Guild staff is going to curse me out of existence...'
"The sheer volume of paperwork that I'm about to give them is going to completely ruin their week..." Yuuya muttered aloud, rubbing his temples as he accepted his grim fate. "Eina's going to buy a heavier clipboard just to dent my skull with it. I can already hear the scratching of her pen."
"Then you better start practicing your apology face right now, Master Yuuya." Lili said, letting out a small, tired sigh as she crossed her arms. "Better yet, your escape plan."
∆∆∆∆
The morning sun hits the Guild and casting a long, imposing shadow across the plaza.
To anyone else, the headquarters of the Guild was a symbol of civilization and order within the labyrinthine city of Orario. To Yuuya Mitsukuji, it looked exactly like a guillotine waiting to drop.
A man who had just spent fourteen days trading blows with the absolute apex of the deep floors, was currently walking as if the cobblestones beneath his boots were made of fragile glass.
Every step toward the grand double doors felt heavier than the last. He adjusted the collar of his shirt, his fingers twitching slightly as a cold bead of sweat traced a path down the nape of his neck.
'I've faced Udaeus.' Yuuya thought, his jaw tightening as he reached the marble steps. 'I've survived the dungeon's spite. But this... this is a completely different type of danger.'
He took a slow, grounding breath, that sounds suspiciously like a prayer for protection. It didn't work. The mental image of a certain half-elf advisor with a terrifyingly serene smile completely bypassed his attempt to calm himself. Steeling his nerves, Yuuya pushed the oak doors open and stepped into the lobby.
The interior of the guild was filled with the rhythmic, ambient sounds of administrative labor. The heavy scent of dried ink, old parchment, and floor wax hung thick in the air.
Rows of long wooden counters stretched across the hall, behind which dozens of Guild employees were buried behind towering battlements of paperwork.
However, the atmosphere today was uniquely lighter than usual. The frantic, desperate scratching of quills that normally defined the lobby had slowed to a steady, manageable pace.
"Just three more charts, Misha." an exhausted human clerk muttered at a nearby desk, wiping his brow with a ink stained handkerchief. "If no one triggers a structural event in the next twenty minutes, I might actually see my family before midnight."
"Don't jinx it!" Misha whispered back from her station, her pink hair swaying as she stamped a final authorization form with a triumphant flourish. "The worst of the reports are finally processed. We are practically at the finish line!"
Yuuya kept his head low, sliding past the clusters of chatting adventurers and navigating the perimeter of the hall until he reached the familiar, polished desk at the far end.
Behind the counter sat Eina Tuelle. Her uniform was immaculate, her eyes scanning a ledger. As the shadow of Yuuya's figure fell across her workspace, she paused, her pointed ears twitching slightly before she lifted her head.
Her expression instantly shifted from professional neutrality to a mixture of profound relief and stern, motherly disapproval.
"Well, look who finally decided to return to the surface." Eina said, setting her quill down in its holder and crossing her arms. She adjusted her glasses, the lenses catching the morning light with a sharp, warning glint. "Seventeen days, Yuuya. You vanished into the dungeon for seventeen consecutive days without a single check in, a message, or even a courtesy note left with the front gate guards."
Yuuya let out a weak, thoroughly awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes darted toward the polished wood of the desk.
"Yeah... sorry about that, Eina. Lost track of time down there. The dungeon have a way of completely ruining your perception of the clock."
"Lost track of time..." Eina repeated, her voice dripping with flat skepticism. She let out a long sigh, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "Honestly, between you and Bell, I feel like my lifespan is being halved by the week. At least tell me you didn't do anything completely reckless."
"Reckless? Me? Never." Yuuya muttered smoothly, though his hand was slightly stiff as he reached into his pocket.
He withdrew a neatly folded sheet of parchment—the very same paper that had caused Hestia to shatter the acoustic limits of the Hearth Manor the morning prior.
With a movement that could only be described as incredibly tentative, Yuuya slid the paper across the counter, letting his fingertips rest on the edge for a fraction of a second before pulling his hand back as if the parchment were hot iron.
Eina blinked, looking down at the document.
"What's this? A dungeon hazard report? Or did you finally manage to itemize the materials you salvaged?"
"It's... my updated status sheet." Yuuya said, his voice dropping an octave into a thoroughly submissive murmur. "Fresh from the Goddess."
"Oh, your status?" Eina's tone instantly lightened. A small, knowing smile graced her lips as she picked up the folded paper.
Internally, she felt a sense of comfortable predictability. She assumed Yuuya was simply being his usual self, sharing his developmental data with her so she could tell her tips and opinions.
After managing Bell's absurd growth curves for months, Eina believed she had become completely desensitized to statistical anomalies. She knew Yuuya was like Bell to her, he grows fast, faster than Bell even.
'He probably pushed his strength and agility up by another two or three hundred points.' Eina thought to herself, unfolding the paper with a snap of her wrist. 'Perhaps he even managed to achieve an S-rank in a single attribute. It will be a headache for the data entry team, but nothing I can't handle—'
Eina's internal monologue stopped.
Her fingers froze, pinning the edges of the parchment against the wooden surface. Her eyes locked onto the ink detailing the upper section of the sheet.
The small, polite smile remained frozen on her face, but the warmth completely evaporated from her features. The emerald sheen of her eyes grew remarkably dull, wide, and entirely hollow, as if her consciousness had been violently extracted from her body.
Simply put, the absolute life left her face in a single, silent second.
Level 4 ===> 6
The text didn't change. It sat there, bold and unbothered, followed by a string of absolute zeros where fifteen hundred point milestones.
"Eina?"
Misha's voice broke through the silence from two desks over. The clerk paused, holding a stack of ledgers as she looked over at her friend's completely catatonic posture.
"Hey, Eina, what's wrong? Did a client forget to pay their tax ledger? You look like you just saw an irregular boss spawn in the lobby."
Receiving absolutely no response from the motionless half-elf, Misha frowned, setting her books down and trotting over.
"Eina? Hello? Gekai to Eina—"
Misha leaned over Eina's shoulder, her eyes casually dropping down to the parchment resting on the desk.
The silence lasted for a single beat.
Then, Misha's eyes literally bulged out of their sockets. Her jaw dropped so low it looked as though it might detach from her skull entirely. The color drained from her cheeks, replaced by a frantic, hysteric panic that seized her vocal cords.
"LEVEL SIX?!" Misha shrieked at the absolute top of her lungs, her voice cracking into a high pitched, echoing blast that bounced violently off the stone ceilings of the Pantheon. "YOU JUMPED TWO LEVELS?! FROM FOUR STRAIGHT TO SIX?! IN LESS THAN A MONTH!? HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?!"
The entire grand lobby of the Guild instantly died.
The ambient chatter of adventurers cut out as if severed by a blade. The low murmur of transactions evaporated. Every single head in the Pantheon snapped toward Eina's desk with the precise, mechanical synchronization of a legion of puppets.
For three seconds, nobody breathed. The words "Level Six" and "Two Levels" hung in the air like a execution order.
Then came the reaction of the Guild staff.
A human clerk three rows back, who had been carefully dipping his quill into an inkwell, froze. His hand began to tremble.
Slowly, deliberately, the quill snapped between his fingers, spilling black ink across the pristine, newly completed distribution chart he had spent the last four hours writing.
He didn't even yell. He simply stared at the ruined page, his shoulders slumping as his head slowly came down to rest flat against the desk, his spirit visibly leaving his body through his mouth.
To his left, a senior elf supervisor dropped an entire three foot tall stack of newly approved adventurer ledgers.
The papers scattered across the floor like oversized snowflakes, but she didn't make a single move to retrieve them. Instead, she slowly covered her face with both hands, sliding down the back of her chair until she was entirely hidden beneath the counter, wishing the floorboards would open up and swallow her into the deep zones.
A double level up in less than a month wasn't just a milestone; it was a bureaucratic cataclysm.
It meant a mandatory, emergency re-evaluation of the city's military standing. It meant organizing a sudden Denatus with the gods within forty eight hours, drafting thousands of security profiles, notifying the Loki and Freya factions to prevent an accidental turf war, and processing a literal mountain of verification paperwork that would keep the entire administrative division trapped in the building for the next three weeks without sleep.
"My vacation..." another clerk whispered from the corner, his eyes completely hollow as he stared blankly at the ceiling. "I was supposed to leave for the Far East tomorrow..."
Yuuya stood in the center of the devastation, trying to keep himself as small as positive.
Misha was still gasping for air, her hands clutching her head as she looked between Yuuya and the paper.
Eina, meanwhile, finally made a sound—a tiny, mechanical click from the back of her throat as her glasses slid a millimeter down her nose. She didn't look at Yuuya. She just stared at the ink.
'Yep...' Yuuya thought, his inner voice completely flat as he watched the utter collapse of the Guild's administrative morale. 'They're definitely going to curse me out of existence. I should probably start looking into moving my residence to a completely different continent before the paperwork shifts begin.'
As the air inside the Pantheon grows increasingly... depressive... a new development happened.
Eina remained completely motionless behind her desk, but the sheer aura that was starting to radiate from her form was beginning to warp. The ambient light around her workspace seemed to dim, casting long, unnatural shadows upward across her face.
A faint, rhythmic tick manifested in her left eyebrow, and the sweet, professional smile she usually maintained began to stretch into a rigid, terrifyingly sharp line.
She was starting to ascend from her mortal form into an evil god.
Yuuya didn't wait for the transformation to complete. His mind, honed by two weeks of survival in the deep floors, instantly calculated a zero percent chance of survival if he remained within striking distance of her clipboard.
Slowly, carefully, he began to step backward. He didn't turn around; he simply slid his boots across the floor with absolute silence, keeping his hands raised in a placating gesture.
He slipped past Misha, who was still clutching her head and mumbling incoherently about paperworks , and melted into the crowd of stunned adventurers near the entrance.
As the oak doors of the Guild closed softly behind him, Yuuya let out a breath he felt he had been holding since he arrived. Through the thick glass panes, he could see the collective posture of every single clerk in the building.
They looked entirely done with life.
Quills remained frozen in mid air, shoulders slumped in unison, and the distinct, heavy silence of an entire department realizing their sleep schedules had just been permanently liquidated hung over the hall like a physical shroud.
Yuuya turned his back to the Pantheon, pulling his collar up against the morning breeze.
He had survived the 37th floor, but escaping that lobby felt like the true miracle of the day.
∆∆∆∆
When he finally slipped through the iron gates of the manor and closed the heavy front door behind him, he let out a long, audible sigh of relief.
"Yuuya? Is that you?"
Hestia peeked her head out from the living room, a half eaten potato puff held in her hand. Seeing his rigid posture, she set the snack down on a small plate and walked over, her blue eyes scanning his expression with a mixture of amusement and genuine curiosity.
"Well? How did it go at the Pantheon? Did they accept the status sheet without declaring war with us?"
Yuuya looked down at his goddess, his face twisting into an expression of profound guilt.
"You know exactly how it goes." he replied, his voice dry and thoroughly flat.
Hestia paused, then let out a sharp, theatrical laugh, shaking her head so hard her pigtails bounced against her shoulders.
"I knew it! I knew they'd completely lose their minds! Did Eina-kun give you the lecture? Did she look like she wanted to banish you from the registry?"
"Worse..." Yuuya muttered, walking past her toward the kitchen to grab a glass of water. "She didn't say a single word. She just stared at the text until the life left her eyes, and then the pink haired one screamed so loud I think the structural pillars cracked. I left before the paperwork realization fully set in. If I go back there within the next forty eight hours, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be hunted by a platoon of angry clerks with sharpened quills."
"Lili did warn you, Master Yuuya." Lili's voice chimed in as she carried a basket of freshly laundered linens down the hall. She gave him a look that was entirely devoid of sympathy, though a small, teasing smirk played at the edge of her lips. "The Guild takes their administrative balance very seriously. A double level up is going to keep their supervisors awake until the next season."
"Yeah, well, I'm retired for the foreseeable future." Yuuya said, taking a long sip of his water. "If anyone asks, I'm not here. I'm a figment of their collective exhaustion."
The remainder of the day passed with an ordinary, quiet monotony that felt almost alien after the chaotic violence of the deep floors.
True to his word, Yuuya remained firmly inside the walls of the Hearth Manor for the entire afternoon. He actively avoided the large glass windows facing the main street, half convinced that if a single Guild employee spotted his dark hair through the glass, he would immediately have a fresh, bureaucratic curse breathing down his neck.
He spent a few hours in the courtyard, watching Welf hammer away at a stray piece of iron, the steady sound of clack-clack-clack
of the forge providing a grounding backdrop to his thoughts.
Haruhime occasionally passed by, offering him polite, quiet bows and ensuring his tea mug was never empty, her golden tail giving a gentle flick every time he thanked her.
Even Bell eventually wandered downstairs around late afternoon, still looking incredibly groggy.
"You really saved me, didn't you, Yuuya-bro?" Bell had asked, sitting beside him on the porch steps, his eyes filled with an immense, quiet reverence.
"Don't worry about it, kid." Yuuya had replied, not looking up from a small piece of wood he was casually carving with a pocket knife. "Just make sure you don't get stuck in a terminal condition again. The commute to the lower floors to fetch a cure is incredibly tedious, and the locals aren't very hospitable. Especially its owner."
Bell had simply smiled, a bright, determined expression that made Yuuya look away with a small, dry grunt.
Dinner was a relaxed affair, filled with the usual bickering between Hestia and Lili over the household budget and Haruhime's meticulous planning for the upcoming week's market runs.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, there was no shadow of impending doom hanging over the dinner table. The crisis had been averted, the doors were locked, and the safety of the Familia was absolute.
Night fell over Orario, wrapping the Hearth Manor in a cool, silver darkness. The lively chatter of the household slowly quieted down as one by one, the members of the Hestia Familia retreated to their respective quarters to claim their well deserved rest.
Yuuya sat on the edge of his bed, the room illuminated only by the faint, pale moonlight filtering through the window curtains. He slid his boots off, letting them drop softly onto the rug, before leaning back against the pillows. He pulled the blanket up to his chest, interlacing his fingers behind his head as he stared up at the plaster ceiling.
His plan for the night was incredibly simple: stare at the ceiling until his brain says quits and give him the sweet sweet embrace of sleep.
His mind was drifting, tracking the faint shadow of a tree branch swaying outside the glass of his peripheral vision.
Then, the ambient temperature of his mind shifted.
The System spoke. But something's different.
The silence that filled his consciousness was remarkably heavy—dense, cold, and entirely uncharacteristic.
[Yuuya.]
The System's voice resonated directly inside his mind. The tone was completely different from anything he had heard before.
The usual relaxed, witty edge was entirely gone, replaced by a deep, hesitant gravity that made the hairs on the back of Yuuya's neck stand up. It sounded deeply troubled.
Yuuya's eyes narrowed in the darkness. He didn't move a muscle, but his focus instantly snapped awake, the lingering grogginess of sleep evaporating in an instant.
'System? What's that tone for? Did the world's law glitch?'
The silence stretched for three long, agonizing seconds.
[...We need to talk about something.] the System spoke again, the words coming out slow, heavy, and carrying a profound weight that Yuuya had never experienced since the day he first opened his eyes in this world. [Something really important.]
The silence that stretched between Yuuya and the System was no longer comfortable.
It was thick, suffocating, and carried the distinct, unmistakable vibe of a living entity hesitating at the edge of a cliff.
'System. Stop playing around. What do you mean, "something really important"? Did my level up have some drawbacks in them?'
[No.] the System replied, its voice dropping even lower with a heavy, deeply burdened sound. [Everything is fine. That's the problem. Your capacity has finally expanded enough to hold the weight of what was suppressed. Yuuya... your perception of time in this world is entirely wrong.]
Yuuya's brow furrowed, a faint, cynical scoff escaping his lips.
"Wrong? What are you talking about? I died in Japan, my soul was transferred, and I woke up in some forest four months ago. I've been building my stats, helping Bell, and surviving the deep floors. The calendar matches up just fine."
[Four months is simply the duration of your physical manifestation.] the System countered, the words coming out slow and deliberate, like a confession long overdue. [You didn't arrive in this world four months ago, Yuuya. You've been here for seven years.]
The words hit the quiet bedroom like a physical blow.
Yuuya's heart skipped a beat. His mind immediately tried to reject the statement, searching for errors, or a punchline that wasn't coming.
"Seven years? That's impossible. If I were here for seven years, I would have memories of it. I would have a record in the Guild database. My photographic memory should have remembered it!"
[When you first opened your eyes in this world, didn't you have a feeling like you're forgetting something? Like a big chunk of your memory is lost?]
(Foreshadowed on chapter 3.)
Yuuya tried to say something back but he couldn't. The System is correct. He did have a feeling like he was forgetting something when he first woke up in this world.
The System let out a long, ragged sigh. Carrying the immense weariness of a guardian who had kept a devastating secret locked away in the dark for nearly a decade.
[I know what your current memory logs dictate. I had to seal them. If I hadn't, it would shatter your consciousness before your physical body could even begin to form. Additionally, it's one of the conditions of the penalty. But you are Level 6 now. Your vessel can handle the truth.]
"System, wait—"
[Don't ask me to explain it verbally, partner.] the System interrupted, its tone softening into a quiet, solemn finality. [It's better for you to see it for yourself. Unlocking memory logs... now.]
Before Yuuya could even voice a rejection, a sudden, violent spike of pressure erupted in the absolute center of his brain.
The world didn't just fade; it shattered. The walls of his bedroom, the silver moonlight, and the polished hardwood floors vanished into a roaring vortex of blinding, colorless light.
His consciousness was violently yanked backward through a collapsing tunnel of time, and his body collapsed limply onto the mattress, completely out cold.
∆∆∆∆
(Author: this won't be a typical flashback. In this part, we will be seeing the Yuuya seven years ago.)
There was no transition. No gradual drifting into a dream state.
Suddenly, Yuuya opened his eyes, and the first thing that flooded his senses was not the smell of smoke and gunpowder on Japan. Instead, it was the comfortable warmth of early spring.
He jolted upward—or rather, the core of his awareness surged forward. He didn't feel the weight of muscles, the drag of a blanket, or the steady thumping of a heartbeat in his chest.
He was entirely weightless, suspended a few feet above a floor made of rough wooden planks.
"What the..." Yuuya muttered, but no sound escaped into the room.
His mind was reeling in absolute, chaotic confusion. Just a single second ago, he was in a ruined building in Saga, Japan. His last memories were that of the snow and the rising sun of a new day. The phantom coldness of his final moments was still fresh, replaying wildly against his thoughts.
[Initialization successful.]
(The system at this time wasn't the one in the current timeline. It's the usual system trope voice.)
A voice resonated. It's was cold, like a newly activated operating system running its primary protocols.
[Welcome, Yuuya Mitsukuji. System synchronization with host consciousness has reached stable parameters.]
'System?' Yuuya thought frantically, his gaze darting around the unfamiliar environment. 'Where the hell am I? Am I dead?'
[Your physical vessel on Earth has officially ceased all biological functions.] the System explained flatly. [You are currently undergoing the preliminary stages of cross dimensional reincarnation. However, due to the unique, immense density of your soul's latent data, a physical body cannot be constructed for you immediately. The world's natural laws require time to adapt to your presence.]
Yuuya tried to look down at his hands, but there was nothing to see. He was a non-physical entity, a localized distortion in the air.
'So I'm a ghost? A spectator?'
[Correct. Until your physical reincarnation process is completely finalized, you will remain an observer for the time being. A hovering, wandering soul bound. You cannot interact with the material world, nor can any living creature perceive your presence.]
Yuuya forced his mind to lock into place, suppressing the rising panic. He floated slightly higher, taking in his surroundings. He was inside a small cabin.
The interior was simple, almost primitive—a stone fireplace crackling with a low, warm fire, a sturdy wooden table with a couple of hand carved chairs, and shelves lined with dried herbs, jars of preserved root vegetables, and old, weathered books.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The wooden front door of the cabin suddenly rattled as a pair of small, enthusiastic feet kicked against the baseboard.
"Auntie! Auntie, look! I found a really, really big pinecone by the river!"
A bright, high pitched child's voice punctured the quiet atmosphere of the cabin. The door swung open, allowing a gust of spring wind and a few stray leaves across the floorboards.
Bursting into the room was a tiny boy, no older than seven years old. He was wearing simple clothes that are fit for his age, his cheeks flushed a vibrant pink from excitement.
What caught Yuuya's attention instantly was the child's hair—a pure, snow white—and a pair of round, brilliant crimson eyes that practically shone with innocent excitement as he held up a dirt covered pinecone like a grand prize.
Yuuya stared at the boy. A strange, phantom spark of recognition flared deep within his mind, but before he could process it, another figure stepped through the doorway, closing the oak door firmly behind them to shut out the winter chill.
The room seemed to grow instantly quiet, the ambient crackle of the fireplace softening as if out of sheer respect for the woman who had just entered.
She was tall, possessing an ethereal, almost hauntingly beautiful silhouette. Long, sweeping silver hair flowed down her back like a frozen waterfall. Her face was pale, remarkably delicate, bearing the faint, tragic lines of a severe, chronic illness that seemed to sap her physical strength, yet her posture remained entirely unbroken.
When she looked down at the boy, her eyes revealed a striking, unmistakable heterochromia—her right eye was a brilliant, emerald green while her left eye was a captivating gray.
"Bell." the woman spoke, her voice carrying a low and melodious that felt incredibly calm, yet packed with a hidden, monstrous depth of power. She reached down, using a clean white handkerchief to gently wipe a smudge of mud from the boy's cheek. "How many times have I told you not to call me aunt? I also remembered telling you not to run ahead near the river. If you slip into the current, the water will carry you away before I can reach you."
"Sorry... But I was careful! I promise!" the little boy—Bell—protested softly, his expression visibly drooping as he looked down at his boots.
The woman let out a soft, barely audible sigh, her expression softening into a look of profound, protective warmth. She gently rested her slender hand against his white hair, rumpling it affectionately.
"Just... be mindful. Go set your prize by the hearth to dry."
Floating near the ceiling of the cabin, Yuuya's wandering soul felt as though it had been struck by lightning.
His photographic memory remembered. The synapses of his past life fired in a frantic, rapid fire sequence, pulling up vivid images, text, and data streams from an anime he had watched during his teenage years on Earth.
The white hair. The timid yet energetic crimson eyes. The name.
'Bell Cranel...' Yuuya's thoughts echoed in a state of profound shock. 'That's Bell. But he's a kid. He's barely barely seven years old.'
Slowly, his spectral gaze shifted from the young boy toward the tall, silver haired woman who was now quietly stoking the fire with an iron poker.
Every single detail of her character design, her heterochromatic eyes, and the terrifyingly immense aura of hidden mana radiating from her sickly frame locked into place with a specific set of data Yuuya had read back on Earth.
She hadn't appeared in the main anime adaptations during his lifetime, but Yuuya hadn't just been a casual viewer—he was a bit more curious than the usual viewer. He had spent some time reading through posts on Reddit concerning her or the Zeus and Hera familia, and visited the Danmachi wiki.
'Alfia.' Yuuya realized, the mental weight of her name causing his spiritual form to tremble. 'The "Silence." The monstrous Level 7 mage of the Hera Familia. The woman who possessed talent so absolute, she could mimic a technique after seeing it once. The tragic antagonist who was supposed to have joined Evilus and died in the Great Feud of Orario seven years before the main story began.'
But as Yuuya watched her carefully tend a giggling young Bell, guiding him toward the wooden table for a bowl of soup, the historical timeline he knew began to unravel.
According to the official canon lore, Alfia was never supposed to be here. She was supposed to be in Orario, planning the attack on the Labyrinth City. She was supposed to perish in the 18th floor, sacrificing her life to act as a cruel, unyielding wall for the next generation of heroes to overcome.
She was never supposed to see Bell grow up.
Then, a sudden, sharp realization crystallized in Yuuya's mind, the pieces of the puzzle falling into an undeniable, mind bending reality.
He hadn't just been reincarnated into the world of DanMachi. He had been dropped directly into the heart of a highly specific, alternate timeline—the famous "What If" scenario penned by the author, Fujino Omori.
A world where Alfia, chose a completely different path. Instead of siding with the dark factions of Evilus to test the city, she chose to live. She chose to turn her back on the gods, retreating into the cabin they are right now to personally take her orphaned nephew into her arms and raise him herself.
Yuuya floated in the quiet cabin, watching the monstrously powerful aunt gently blow on a spoonful of soup before feeding it to the future hero of Orario.
'Seven years ago...' Yuuya thought. 'Looks like I'll be here for a while.'
∆∆∆∆
Since he couldn't touch anything, make a sound, and basically anything, Yuuya quickly accepted that he would be here for a long, long time.
With absolutely nothing better to do, he spent his days floating around the small house, observing the incredibly bizarre family dynamic of the people living inside.
It didn't take him long to map out the entire household. There was Bell, who was basically a walking ball of pure innocence; Alfia, the terrifyingly quiet and sickly silver haired woman; and two other residents that had initially made Yuuya's jaw drop.
One was Zald, the massive, imposing behemoth of the Zeus Familia. The other was Bell's supposed grandfather—a boisterous, eccentric old man who was none other than the chief god Zeus himself, living under the guise of a simple rural elder.
"Listen closely, Bell." Zeus whispered one afternoon, leaning in close to the seven year old by the fireplace. The old god had a grand, sweeping expression on his face, gesturing wildly with his hands. "A true hero isn't just about fighting monsters or swinging swords. That's only half the job! The real peak of a hero's journey... is the romance! The bonds! A magnificent harem of beautiful maidens weeping for your affection!"
Bell's crimson eyes blinked in pure, rapt wonder.
"A... a harem?"
"Yes! Elves, beast humans, goddesses—you must conquer them all with a blinding smile and a chivalrous heart! Gird your loins, my boy, for the path of a man is paved with—"
•Gospel.•
Zeus never finished the sentence.
From the kitchen doorway, Alfia's emerald eye flashed with a lethal, frigid light. She didn't even raise her hand. She simply let out a sharp, quiet breath, and a concussive wave of sound exploded through the living room.
CRASH
The sheer force of the blast sent Zeus flying backward across the room. Smashing cleanly through the wooden outer wall, leaving a perfectly human shaped silhouette in the timber before he tumbled headfirst into the dirt outside.
From the adjacent corner, Zald slowly set down the iron skillet he had been cleaning. He stared at the newly created, gaping hole in the side of the cabin.
He let out a long, heavy sigh, lifting his massive hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.
"Alfia..." Zald muttered, his deep voice carrying a wave of pure exhaustion. "Wood doesn't grow overnight. I literally just replaced those specific planks yesterday after he tried to teach the boy how to peek at the river nymphs."
"He was polluting the boy's mind." Alfia stated calmly, brushing a stray silver strand behind her ear as if she hadn't just launched a deity into the next yard. "Consider it a structural renovation and cleaning the environment."
Floating near the rafters, Yuuya couldn't help but shake his head, thoroughly entertained by the sheer absurdity of it all.
He had read about these characters being legendary, tragic figures who shook the world itself... Or Orario... but seeing them argue over house repairs and perverted old men was something else entirely.
As the weeks bled together, Yuuya started to notice smaller, subtler shifts in the house. Alfia was notoriously strict, holding a cold, unyielding demeanor that usually kept people at a distance.
She absolutely hated being called "aunt" or "auntie," firmly demanding that Bell address her formally as "Lady Alfia" because the alternative made her feel old.
But Bell was a kid, and kids made mistakes.
"Lady Alfia, look!" Bell scrambled into the main room, holding up a crude, hand drawn picture of a silver haired woman holding a small child's hand. "I drew this for you! Thank you for fixing my coat, Auntie—"
Bell froze, his own words catching in his throat. His small hands flew over his mouth, his crimson eyes widening in sheer terror as he realized what he had just blurted out, while remembering her warning last time. He flinched, pulling his shoulders in and bracing himself for the inevitable, painful knock on the top of his head.
Alfia stood motionless, staring down at the little white haired boy. Her pale face remained unreadable for a long, heavy moment.
Yuuya held his breath, wondering if she was going to blast the kid like she did with Zeus. But instead, she just closed her eyes and let out a soft, defeated sigh.
She reached down, her slender fingers gently taking the drawing from his hands, before resting her palm against his messy hair. She didn't punch him. She just adjusted his messy collar with a surprisingly gentle touch.
"Just... ensure you do not repeat the slip in public, Bell." she murmured softly.
Bell beamed, his eyes sparkling as he nodded happily. Watching from above, Yuuya smiled. It was clear that this version of Alfia, despite her illness and tragic past, was a bit more mellowed out. The kid was melting the ice around her heart.
However, there was one area where Alfia's absolute perfection completely collapsed: domestic chores. Most notably, cooking.
One evening, for reasons entirely unknown to the rest of the household, Alfia decided she was going to handle dinner.
She didn't ask for help, and she didn't say a single word as she practically barricaded herself in the kitchen for two straight hours.
When she finally emerged, she set a massive iron pot in the center of the wooden table. The three residents—and the floating ghost hovering above them—all leaned forward to inspect the creation.
It was... horrifying. The stew was a deep, unholy shade of purple, bubbling with a slow, thick consistency that defied gravity.
Strange, jagged chunks of unpeeled root vegetables floated on the surface like sinking ships, and a faint, metallic smoke drifted upward, smelling faintly of charcoal and crushed herbs.
"Yikes... And here I thought Akari and Haruka's cooking was bad." Said Yuuya as he grimaced. "This explains why Bell can eat Syr's food in the future. Alfia got ahead and made Bell's tongue and stomach build resistance..."
Alfia sat down at the head of the table, her back perfectly straight, her hands resting primly on her lap. Her heterochromatic eyes fixed onto Bell with a quiet, deeply intense, and strangely expectant gaze.
"Eat." she commanded gently. "It is important for your growth."
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a dagger. Zeus and Zald sat perfectly rigid, their faces turning dark as they stared at the bubbling abyss in the pot.
Bell, being the absolute angel that he was, and also excited because this is the first time he'll get to taste her food, took a spoonful. Even though he has doubts if it was even safe for consumption. But the expectant gaze of his aunt was impossible to resist, so he thought it was probably fine. That was his first, big mistake.
He grabbed his wooden spoon, and scooped up a portion of the purple sludge. With a brave, desperate gulp, he forced the spoon into his mouth.
The boy instantly froze. His crimson eyes went completely hollow, the light draining from them in a fraction of a second. Yuuya could practically see a tiny, translucent version of Bell's soul escaping from his open mouth, fluttering toward the ceiling.
Alfia tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in anticipation.
"Well? Is it to your liking, Bell?"
Bell shivered violently, his hand shaking as he forced his arm upward, giving her a weak, trembling thumbs up.
"It's... it's really good, Lady Alfia..." he rasped out, his voice sounding like he had just swallowed a handful of sand.
Upon hearing the boy's "approval," Alfia's expression subtly brightened with a faint touch of pride. She slowly turned her gaze toward the remaining two men at the table.
Yuuya looked over at Zeus and Zald.
The two legendary figures—the former who are the literal king of gods and the latter who faced the Three Great Quest without flinching—looked completely paralyzed with pure, existential terror.
Zeus's eyes were darting frantically toward the window, calculating if jumping through the glass would be less painful than taking a single bite of Alfia's cooking, while Zald looked like he was praying to whatever gods were left in heaven.
'Man...' Yuuya thought, floating safely above the dinner table as he watched the old men sweat through their shirts. 'Being a ghost might be boring, but I am incredibly glad my digestive system won't suffer.'
(Nah, you'll also go through what they go through in the future 🙏)
Alfia's eye locked onto Zald. The massive adventurer sat perfectly upright, his boulder-like shoulders rigid beneath his heavy tunic.
He was a man who had earned the epithet of "Gluttony," a warrior whose very Falna allowed him to consume the flesh of monsters to grow stronger.
His stomach was supposed to be a bottomless furnace capable of digesting anything the mortal world threw at it. And yet... Here he is, fearing for his life.
"Zald." Alfia murmured, her voice entirely flat and devoid of rhythm. "You require substantial sustenance to maintain your mass. Eat."
Zald didn't blink. He reached out with a hand the size of a dinner plate, his thick fingers wrapping around the small wooden spoon. He scooped up a dense, trembling glob of the purple sludge.
For a second, the liquid actually hissed against the wood, a small wisp of dark vapor rising toward the rafters where Yuuya was hovering.
Zald shoved the spoon into his mouth and chewed.
Instantly, the big man's stoic warrior expression cracked. His thick eyebrows shot straight up, and a sudden, violent tremor ran down his massive spine. His left hand gripped the edge of the heavy oak table so hard the solid timber groaned, a faint crack sound echo through the room as his fingers dug into the wood. His jaw worked mechanically, his face turning an impressive shade of dull grey as he forced his throat to swallow the mass.
He set the spoon down with a heavy, hollow thud, his eyes staring blankly at the wall ahead. He didn't say a word. He looked like a veteran who had just returned from a war he knew he could never win.
"And you, old man." Alfia turned her head, her silver hair swaying over her shoulder as her gaze dropped onto the chief god of the universe.
Zeus was already halfway out of his chair. He had been quietly trying to slide his legs under the bench, his eyes darting frantically toward the heavy wooden door with the desperate calculation of a trapped animal. The moment her voice struck his ears, he froze mid-skulk, a weak, sweating smile plastering across his wrinkled face.
"Ah! Alfia, my dear!" Zeus chuckled nervously, his hands fluttering in front of his chest. "You know, the gods don't actually require mortal food to sustain their divine forms! In fact, I think it would be a terrible waste for me to consume your wonderful, hard earned masterpiece when young Bell needs it to grow into a fine—"
"Eat." Alfia repeated.
The iron poker resting by the hearth suddenly rattled against the stone chimney, vibrating under the faint pressure of her voice.
Zeus let out a tiny, pathetic whimper. He sank back onto the bench, his old hands shaking so violently he nearly dropped his spoon twice before he managed to fish out a small piece of an unpeeled, greyish root vegetable drowning in the purple broth.
He closed his eyes—a single tear trickled down his face, as he offered a silent prayer to the heavens he used to rule, and shoved it.
The old god's eyes instantly flew open, completely bloodshot. Tears welled up in the corners, spilling down his wrinkled cheeks. He gripped his own throat with both hands, his chest heaving as if his lungs had suddenly forgotten how to process oxygen.
He didn't even swallow; the food seemed to simply melt its way down his esophagus like molten steel. He slumped forward, his forehead hitting the edge of the table with a soft groan, his spirit visibly broken.
"Well... How is it?" Asked Alfia.
"I-its good my dear. So good in fact that it's about to send me back to Tenka—I mean send me to cloud nine." Replied Zeus weakly.
Floating safely near the ceiling, Yuuya watched the absolute devastation with a mixture of horror and immense gratitude.
'Holy hell.' he thought, looking down at the three generations of legendary figures completely neutralized by a single pot of stew. 'I don't know what kind of magic she put in that pot, but she just defeated the Zeus Familia without lifting a single finger.'
The next morning, the sun hadn't even fully cleared the peaks before Zeus was at the front door. His face was still a bit pale, but his eyes carried a desperate, manic energy.
"We're going to the village!" Zeus announced to the quiet cabin, his voice unnaturally loud as he grabbed Bell by the shoulder. "Yes! A vital part of a young hero's education! Learning the trade routes, understanding the local economy, and... and checking on the health of the village maidens!"
Zald walked up behind them.
"I am going to look out for them, especially the old man." the big man stated gravely, his face deadpan. "We may be gone for several hours."
Alfia sat by the window, reading a book. She didn't lift her head, merely offering a single, quiet nod.
"Do not let the boy stay out past sundown. He might catch a cold."
"Right! Of course! Back before dark!" Zeus scrambled, practically throwing the door open and hoisting Bell out into the snow before sprinting down the path like a man escaping a burning building. Zald followed immediately behind, closing the heavy oak door with a swift, decisive click.
Yuuya drifted through the wooden wall right after them, floating over them as the trio made their way. For the first ten minutes, nobody said a word. The only sound was the crisp crunching of their boots against the ground.
But the moment they have made quite the distance, completely out of sight and earshot of the cabin, Zeus stopped dead in his tracks. He let out a massive sigh of relief, throwing his arms toward the sky as if he had just been released from a dungeon.
"Fresh air!" Zeus yelled, his voice echoing off the pines. "By the heavens, I can finally taste something other than burnt misery and despair! Zald, tell me you brought the coin purse!"
"I brought everything old man." Zald said, reaching into his heavy coat and pulling out a small leather pouch that jingled with the sweet, musical sound of Valis. "The village market should have fresh beef skewers and bread from the bakery. Real bread. The kind that doesn't growl when you drop it on the floor."
"Thank the gods..." Zeus muttered, wiping a lingering trace of sweat from his brow.
He looked down at Bell, who was trotting along beside him, looking thoroughly confused by his grandfather's sudden burst of dramatic energy.
"Listen to me, Bell. Your aunt... she is a paragon of combat. A genius of ruin. If you ask her to conquer a kingdom, she will do it before breakfast. But you must never, EVER let her near a kitchen again if you value your future."
"B-But Grandfather..." Bell stammered, his small voice echoing in the crisp morning air as he looked up with a thoroughly conflicted expression. "Lady Alfia really worked hard on that dinner! She stayed in the kitchen for a really long time, and... and the purple color was kind of pretty when it was bubbling..."
As the words left his mouth, however, Bell's own body betrayed him. His small shoulders gave a sudden flinch, and his expression darkened. His crimson eyes went slightly wide and glassy as his mind involuntarily dragged him back to the memory of that first, agonizing spoonful of purple sludge. He choked slightly on his own breath, his hand flying to his stomach as a small shiver ran down his legs.
Zeus immediately whipped around, pointing a dramatic, accusing finger straight at the boy's face.
"See?! Look at your face, boy!" Zeus shouted. "You can't even defend her without looking like you're about to meet your ancestors! Your tongue is lying, but your stomach is crying out for mercy!"
"I... I just think she wants to help..." Bell whispered weakly, looking down at his boots. His expression is one of those of utter defeat.
"There is a difference between helping and creating a hazard, Bell!" Zeus continued, his hands gesturing wildly. "She is a whole another level of destruction when it comes to domestic stuff! It's not just the food! Did you completely forget what happened three days ago?!"
Zald, who had been walking quietly behind them, let out a low, rumbling groan from the back of his throat, rubbing his temples as if a headache were coming on.
"Please, Lord Zeus. Do not remind me of the laundry incident. My back still hurts from hauling the water to replace it."
"No, we must speak of it!" Zeus ranted, his old voice cracking with indignant fury now that he was safely out of Alfia's proximity. "How do you even set water on fire, Bell?! Explain that to me! It was a wooden tub filled to the brim with river water! Cold! Wet! The literal opposite of fire!"
Floating just above Zeus's head, Yuuya leaned forward, his interest thoroughly piqued. He hadn't been paying attention to the chores a few days ago, but hearing this was pure gold.
'Wait, she actually set water on fire?' he thought, a massive grin breaking across his invisible face. 'How is that even possible?'
"She just wanted to clean your clothes, Grandfather..." Bell offered, his voice incredibly small as he tried to shield his face from the old man's dramatic gestures.
"She poured the soap into the tub." Zeus continued, his eyes wide as he relived the horror. "She looked at the stains, muttered something about the efficiency of her spell if she used it while washing the clothes, and guess what? She then she didn't even use a spell! She just stared at the washbasin with those eyes of hers. The next thing I know, a brilliant green flame erupts straight out of the water! Not a red orange fire, green! How can you even change the color of a fire!? It didn't even burn the wooden tub! It just roared up like a miniature dragon, completely vaporizing my favorite tunic into a pile of sparkling silver ash in three seconds!"
Zeus threw his hands into the air, his beard shaking with emotion.
"When I asked her what happened, she just looked at me and said the cloth was 'cleansed of its mortal imperfections.' It was gone, Bell! The whole shirt was just gone! If Zald hadn't smothered the bucket with a wet hide, I'm pretty sure the entire back porch would have become a memory!"
"It took me four hours to scrape the residue off the stones..." Zald added flatly, his deep voice carrying a tone of absolute, unyielding weariness. "Her talent is a curse in a small house."
"Exactly!" Zeus nodded fervently, grabbing Bell by his small shoulders and looking down at him with absolute gravity. "So from now on, whenever your aunt says she wants to try a new recipe, or if she offers to organize the pantry... we run. We take the gold, we take the sacks, and we go outside to buy food that doesn't want to kill us. Do you understand me, my boy? This is the true secret to surviving the mountains!"
Bell stared up at his grandfather, his eyes blinking rapidly as he looked between Zeus and the stoic, nodding figure of Zald. He let out a small, defeated sigh, his shoulders slumping as he realized he was completely outnumbered by the victims of his aunt's domestic skill.
"Yes, Grandfather..." Bell mumbled softly.
Yuuya drifted along beside them, a soft, genuine laugh vibrated through his spectral form. He had died on the battlefield, completely alone and cold, but watching this utterly broken, terrified, and legendary family sneak out just to buy edible meat skewers was the best entertainment he could have ever asked for.
∆∆∆∆
While the trips to the village provided a brief, comedic escape from the bizarre realities of his new spectral life, there were other, much quieter moments that left Yuuya with a heavy knot in his chest.
Being a ghost meant he never slept, never left the cabin's perimeter, and spent every hour of the day wandering through the wooden walls.
Because of this constant presence, he saw the things the rest of the family missed. He saw the cracks in composure in Alfia.
It usually happened in the late afternoons, during those rare hours when Zeus and Zald took Bell down to the lower streams to fish, leaving the cabin entirely empty.
Alfia would stand by the window, her back perfectly straight as she stared at the nature outside. But the moment the echo of Bell's laughter faded completely, the invisible string holding her together would snap.
"Cough!"
A sharp, wet, and agonizing sound tore out of her throat. Alfia instantly doubled over, her slender frame shaking so violently that her silver hair whipped forward, obscuring her face.
She gripped the edge of the window with tightly, her breath coming out in ragged, whistling gasps that sounded like tearing silk.
Yuuya floated down from the ceiling, landing right beside her. He could see the sudden, terrifying pallor that washed over her skin.
"Cough! Cough!"
She pressed a white handkerchief to her mouth, her shoulders heaving as she fought against her own lungs. When she finally pulled the cloth away, Yuuya's breath hitched.
The white fabric was stained with a horrific splash of crimson. Her gray and emerald eyes were watery, glazed over with a layer of pain that she would never allow her nephew to see.
Slowly, painfully, she sank into a nearby wooden chair, her head leaning back against the timber as she closed her eyes, her chest rising and falling in shallow, desperate movements.
The legendary mage who could flatten armies looked so incredibly small, so fragile, that a strong gust of wind might knock her away.
Yuuya reached his hand out, his fingers instinctively moving to pat her shoulder, to offer some kind of comfort to a woman dying on her feet.
But his hand simply passed straight through her shoulder, cutting through the silver strands of her hair like smoke through a screen.
He looked down at his invisible, weightless fingers, a wave of profound pity and frustration washing through his mind.
He was right here. He was watching a mother figure bleed her life away in the quiet dark just to give a little boy a few more days of happiness, and he couldn't do a single thing to help. He couldn't fetch water, he couldn't pay her in the back, and he couldn't tell her that she didn't have to carry the weight of the world completely alone.
All he could do was watch.
As night settled over, the nights became incredibly long and fiercely cold. A sharp contrast during the day.
The wind howled against the heavy timber of the cabin, rattling the windowpanes. Inside, the family slept in shifts, keeping the fireplace burning bright.
Because space was tight in the small cabin, Bell and Alfia shared the large bed in the corner of the main room, tucked beneath the blankets to keep the chill at bay.
Yuuya usually spent these hours hovering near the high beams of the roof, staring down at the quiet household just to pass the time until the sun rose.
"Goodnight, Lady Alfia..." Bell murmured one night, his voice thick with sleep as he curled into a tight ball beneath the quilts.
His messy white hair poked out from the top of the blanket, his small chest rising and falling in a slow, peaceful rhythm.
"Goodnight, Bell." Alfia whispered back, her voice remarkably soft as she pulled the blanket up to his chin, ensuring he was entirely protected from the drafts.
She lay down beside him, resting her head on the pillow. But she didn't close her eyes.
Yuuya, who was floating lazily near the center rafters, suddenly felt the hairs on his phantom neck stand up.
The ambient warmth of the room seemed to drop a few degrees.
Slowly, Alfia turned her head away from the sleeping boy. Her gaze traveled upward, gliding past the dark wooden beams, skipping over the shadow of the chimney, until her heterochromatic eyes locked directly onto the exact patch of empty air where Yuuya was hovering.
Yuuya froze. He stopped shifting, his phantom form locking into place as he stared straight back down at her.
She couldn't see him. The System had explicitly stated that no living creature could perceive a wandering soul.
Yet, her instincts—the honed, terrifying awareness of a Level 7 adventurer who spent her entire life surviving lethal encounters—defied the natural order. She could "feel" the weight of a gaze. She could sense a lingering presence in the room, a localized shadow that didn't belong in her house.
Her pale face twisted into a sharp, silent glare. Her mismatched eye shone with a dangerous, icy intensity in the dying embers of the hearth, tracking his position with terrifying accuracy.
She didn't move an inch, her body remaining completely still so she wouldn't wake the sleeping child beside her, but the sheer aura radiating from her form was clear: If you touch him, I will tear the heavens apart.
'Hey, wait, I'm not a threat.' Yuuya thought, waving his hands in a frantic, silent panic, even though he knew she couldn't hear his thoughts. 'I'm just a guy who died in a war. I'm just watching. I'm not going to hurt the kid, I promise.'
Alfia didn't break eye contact. She kept her gaze pinned to his coordinates, watching for the slightest shift, the absolute smallest hint of malice or hostile movement.
Minutes bled into hours in the silent, freezing cabin. The only sound was the howling wind outside and the steady, soft breathing of little Bell sleeping peacefully beside her.
Yuuya didn't move a single inch. He just hovered there, keeping his posture relaxed and completely harmless, trying to project a sense of absolute peace down toward the bed.
He looked at the deep shadows beneath her eyes, noticing how much effort it was taking for her to keep her eyelids open. Her body was already fighting a terminal sickness, and now she was forcing herself to stay awake, acting as a sleepless guardian against an invisible ghost.
Slowly, the sheer, crushing weight of her exhaustion began to take its toll.
Alfia's breathing grew heavier, her fierce glare softening as her eyelids began to flutter, dropping down before she forced them open again with pure willpower.
She gave one last, long, and deeply suspicious look at Yuuya's corner, searching for any sign of a hidden weapon or an impending strike.
Finding absolutely nothing but a calm, unchanging silence, her defenses finally began to crack under the pressure of her sleepiness.
With a soft, nearly imperceptible sigh, her eyes fully closed. Her head sank deeper into the pillow, her body relaxing as she finally surrendered to the rest her fragile frame desperately needed, her hand still resting protectively over Bell's small shoulder.
Hovering above them in the dark, Yuuya let out a long, silent breath of his own, his shoulders dropping as the heavy tension left the room. He looked down at the aunt and nephew sleeping side by side, a faint, bittersweet smile touching his face.
'You really are something else, Alfia...' he thought quietly, drifting a little closer to ensure the blanket hadn't slipped from her shoulders. 'Even the laws of the universe can't completely hide something from you when it comes to protecting that kid.'
∆∆∆∆